


I Was Thinking About Your Face

by tackytiger



Series: Drarry Drabbles [11]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Developing Relationship, Drarry Discord Writers Corner Drabble Challenge, Falling In Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:41:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26362816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tackytiger/pseuds/tackytiger
Summary: Just a little scene about Harry going to Draco's for dinner when they first start sleeping together.Written for the August 2020 Drarry Discord Drabble ChallengePrompt: ReturnWord count: 248
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Drarry Drabbles [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1394383
Comments: 4
Kudos: 127





	I Was Thinking About Your Face

“Is this really where you live?” Harry asks the first time he visits Draco’s flat, and when Draco answers— _yes, of course_ —crossly (because he doesn’t know what that’s supposed to mean) Harry just kisses him briefly and distractedly, and then spends fifteen minutes rifling through Draco’s bookcases.

Draco wants to stand behind him, put a hand on the unselfconscious jut of Harry’s hip, maybe run a thumb unthinkingly over that strip of skin just above his waistband, but they don’t really do that sort of thing.

In fact, that quick, sweet, absent-minded kiss is the first time they’ve properly touched while sober. Draco hadn’t really been sure that they ever would, but now Harry Potter is here and he wants to stay for dinner, so Draco goes and chops some onions for the pasta sauce.

Just after Draco adds the red wine to the tomatoes, Harry comes back into the tiny kitchen and kisses him, very deliberately this time. They fuck over the kitchen counter and when they’re finished the sauce is ready and they sit on the kitchen floor to eat, too wobbly and fucked out to move far, balancing the bowls on their bare stomachs.

Harry doesn’t stay the night, and when he’s gone Draco can see where he’s been—a photo frame put back in the wrong place, Draco’s shampoo bottle uncapped, a half-formed bruise spreading smudgy around Draco’s left nipple.

“It’s nice here,” Harry had said before he left.

Draco thinks that he might actually have meant it.


End file.
